Thieves of Heaven
by Vieta Skellington
Summary: When Koenma is desperate to find a 6th fighter for his team to compete in the Dark Tournament, he calls in a favor owed to him by one Katari Kurochi, once the second most talented thief in all of the Makai and secret mate of Yoko Kurama, to fight for him.
1. Born beneath a crimson moon

**Thieves of Heaven**

_A Yoko Kurama/Shuichi Minamino story-Yu Yu Hakusho_

**Chapter One: Born beneath a crimson moon**

"**H**ang in there…just keep breathing…"

Shrill, high pitched whimpers of agony echoed off the bare stone walls of the chamber, ringing in his ears as he squeezed his mate's tiny hand tightly, the knuckles of her slender fingers white with strain. Tears fled freely from her crimson eyes, leaving trails of moisture to stain her pale cheeks, the wet skin glistening in the dim light offered by the kerosene lamps placed throughout the small room. The elderly midwife that had been imported from the village leaned over her, the older woman's storm gray eyes narrowing with obvious displeasure at what she saw.

"Only another minute more-push with all your strength!"

The laboring female didn't have to be told twice. A loud, agonizing scream vibrated from her throat as she forced her weakened body to comply with the doctor's order, her efforts rewarded with the piercing cry of an infant's wail sounding as it left the familiar, protective burrow within the womb. Her breath caught in her throat as she clutched the hand of her mate with a steel grip, the harsh bite of pain in her abdomen seeming to relish its hold on her. She nearly lost consciousness then, a wave of dizziness washing over her and causing the world to spin in one endless blur of color.

"A daughter! You've given me a daughter!" she heard her mate cry out happily, leaning down to kiss her sweaty brow as the midwife cleaned the infant and wrapped her up in a thick wool blanket before placing her in her father's arms. Her cries of protest quieted as she looked up at him, her eyes a stunning shade of violet and the little hair there was on her head a vibrant cherry red. He stared down at his first child, delirious with bliss, happy tears flooding his eyes at the sight.

"She's beautiful," he whispered, cradling his newborn child close to his chest, her tiny body like a doll in his large hands as he held her. A soft cry of relief escaped the lips of his mate as he laid the child in her arms, his heart heavy with pride at the life he had helped create. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss, resting his forehead against her own as a contented smile curved upon his face.

The midwife stood apart from the tiny family, looking upon the newly made parents with sad eyes, for their joy was ill fated. Never before had she ever delivered a child on a night such as this, a night made legendary to all who dwelled within the world of demons for its terrible prophecy-the night of the crimson moon. Only twice before had such a moon lit the oddly colored skies of the Makai, and it was believed that all those born under its light would live a life of great fortune, but meet a terrible fate. If the legend proved true, this child would suffer.

Of course, when she had attempted to explain this knowledge, the parents refused to believe such a thing, writing the prophecy off as a legend and nothing more. Her time had been wasted in telling them, for her words had fallen on deaf ears. There was nothing more she could do. Having done the job she came to do, she quietly gathered her supplies and made her exit, saying a silent prayer in the child's name, praying for her sake that the prophecy of the Red Moon was a legend and nothing more.

Only time would tell.

- - -

"Daddy, is Mommy angry with me? She never comes out of her room anymore…"

Rin Kurochi looked down at his daughter sadly, reaching out to stroke her soft, cherry red locks with his fingers, his azure eyes clouded over with unspoken pain as he forced himself to smile, if only for his daughter's sake.

"Mommy had to go away for a little while, on a trip. She should be home soon, so don't be too upset, little one. I'll keep you company. Why don't we start on your combat training a little early? I know just how eager you are to learn how to wield a sword…"

Her violet orbs lit up at his offer, a huge smile breaking out on her angelic face as she threw her tiny arms around his knees in a tight hug. He smiled down at her, patting her shoulder in a loving manner. He couldn't tell her the truth. She was too innocent, too happy. Knowing that her mother had left her for good would kill her. He knew that he would have to come clean one day, but the later that day was, the better it would be. But he knew it wouldn't be long before she discovered the truth-his daughter was unusually bright for someone her age, a mere six years. Her abilities as a Kurochi, or Black Blood as they were also called among the other demon clans within the Makai, were already starting to show themselves, which meant the time to train her was close at hand. She wouldn't remain a child forever, that much he already knew, but part of him wished she would remain this young forever.

From the moment she could walk and talk, Katari had displayed an unquenchable thirst to learn. She was an incredibly fast learner, who picked up on things with little effort, even if they were years above her level of understanding. Her father's older sister, Kumi, had taken it upon herself to teach her the very basics of physical combat, which she excelled at, much to everyone's surprise. Kurochi females were known for their incredible power as physics, but rather lacked in the hands on combat. The moment she had completed her basic training, she had been a mere four years of age, and begged her father to teach her how to handle a sword, a task he had not wanted to tackle until she was older. Now, regardless of whether or not he thought she was ready, he would teach her, vaguely hoping that it would somehow make up for the horrible truth she would soon discover.

"Now, when engaging in sword combat, you must always hold your blade in this manner…"

- - -

"You will marry Aki, and that's final!"

Cold eyes glared up at him in defiance, their color darkened with obvious rage as they bore into his own, the hatred reflected in those violet depths causing his heart to ache.

"Over my dead and decaying corpse!" came the reply, followed by the harsh pounding of heavy footsteps as they receded into silence, the only sound being the callous pounding of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.

"Give her time, Rin-san. She will come around, you'll see."

He bowed his head low in respect to the Kurochi Elder, deciding that he would give her the rest of the day to cool off before he approached her again. His daughter, being one of the strongest in both physical strength and her youkai abilities within the entire Kurochi family, was incredibly stubborn and always spoke what was on her mind, regardless if it was appropriate or not. She had her mother's spirit, and at just short of a century old, possessed the beauty of a goddess. Her hair had darkened in color to a luxurious shade of crimson and grew until it was at her waist, worn loose or bound in a tight braid if she was training. Her eyes had retained their color, but had lost their light of child like innocence and instead taken on the appearance of someone older, lacking purity and not blinded by hope. Her skin was the color of milk and flawless, her body the envy of every female who saw her, with gentle curves and firm with muscle. It was no wonder why one of the Elder's own sons wanted her as his mate.

That night, he approached her chamber, knocking softly on her door. His efforts were rewarded with silence. After another try, he attempted the door knob, only to find it unlocked. A hoarse cry escaped his throat as he entered the room to find his only daughter missing, her window pushed open wide, a note pinned to the wall by means of a small knife.

He didn't have to read the note-he already knew that she was gone.

The pain in his heart reared up, very much in the same way it had when he had discovered that his mate had left him and their child, fleeing in almost the same way his daughter just had. He collapsed to the floor, allowing the tears to flow freely from his eyes as his hands clutched blindly at his chest.

"Sakurai, forgive me. Not only have I lost you, but now our daughter as well."

That's where the Elder found him the next morning, his tears still drying on his cheeks.

'_Katari, how could you do this to me? How could you leave me too?_'

- - -

"Men, I'd like you to meet the newest addition to our little band of misfits. Be nice now," the incredibly handsome silver haired kitsune announced with a small wave of his slender hand, gesturing towards the hooded figure that walked alongside him. "Her name is Katari, of the Kurochi clan."

"Former Kurochi, if you will," came the reply as the hood fell away, the entire camp gasping at what they saw, their eyes wide and mouths open. Stunning violet eyes glared back at them in a sinister fashion, almost as if testing them to try anything.

This brought a chuckle from the kitsune as he watched the scene before him with amusement reflected in those golden eyes of his. "As you wish," he responded as their eyes locked and stares held firm, neither of them backing down. Despite the fact that he was obviously in charge of this little gathering, she was not punished for insolence.

He broke the stare after a long minute and turned to address his men with his usual smirk.

"Rest well. We will raid the temple of Bao tomorrow at first light."

And that is how it all began.

- - -

He studied his fellow thief and now new student with intent eyes, a smirk forming upon those perfect lips as he watched her cry out in frustration, her hands clenching themselves into tight fists. Things had been going like this for nearly 5 hours straight, and still she was having trouble mastering what he was attempting to teach her.

"I hate you, you know. You stand there and smile while I suffer. I knew you were a sadistic bastard, but this?" she complained, causing him to chuckle and earning himself a warning glare.

"Are you aware that you are only all the more attractive when you're angry?" he teased, inwardly grinning as her pale cheeks darkened to a flattering shade of soft pink in embarrassment. Ah, how he loved to tease her.

"Flattery may work wonders with those whores of you, but not with me. Save your breath," she retorted as she turned her back on him, attempting to soothe her burning cheeks.

"Tell me, Katari, how is it that you are of kitsune nature and never knew of your powers? You're abilities as a shadow youkai are incredible, and yet, you never made it known that you were even of kitsune blood. Why is that?"

His question was met by a long, uncomfortable silence.

"My…mother-she was what is known as a Siren Kitsune, a youkai not of earth but of song. The reason why I never learned such things was because my father refused to teach me. He knew how, but doing so reminded him of her, and despite the many years she had been gone, the pain of her leaving was still like a fresh wound. To avoid the pain he felt, he ignored anything that had to do with her," she explained softly, her eyes losing their glare and taking on a distant appearance, as if lost in memories. "Hence the reason my kitsune blood was denied."

"Well, better late then never. With me as your teacher, you'll learn fast. Are you up for it?"

She turned to face him with a haughty smirk he found quite attractive playing upon her lips, her eyes glittering with mischief in a way he saw as mesmerizing as she spoke.

"Have you ever known me to pass up a challenge, Yoko?"

His smirk matched her own.

"Well then, let's continue, shall we?"

- - -

The last of the guards fell to the floor, the once pristine white titles of the temple now covered in crimson puddles of fresh blood, dismembered limbs strew about like those of discarded dolls. She smirked as she replaced her weapon, slipping the bloodstained blade back into its plain leather sheath before pulling the hood away from her shoulders, her unbound hair falling just past her waist in waves of red that shimmered brilliantly in the bright lights of the temple lamps.

"Nicely done, Katari. Ruthless to the core, as usual," her leader praised her as he approached her side, eying her shamelessly with keen golden orbs. If anything, time had only made her beauty more profound in his eyes. She was like that luscious red apple hanging just beyond reach within the tree, tempting the hungry with something they would never have. She had been a part of his pack for nearly 3 decades now, and he found himself desiring her more than he ever had another female, but she would never allow him the time of day, despite his many advances. He wasn't discouraged though. They didn't call him the greatest thief in the Makai for nothing. Yoko Kurama_ always_ got what he wanted-_always_.

Everything, that is, except her.

She nodded her thanks as the other thieves filed in, filling their bags to the brim with loot. She had, however, already claimed her prize, a large leather satchel stuffed nearly to the bursting with precious gems and a dagger with a ruby encrusted hilt. While the others fancied gold above all other things, she had a love for jewels, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, much like her leader. They would often compete to see who would come out on top with the most loot. Yoko had always won, but she was never far behind.

She was many things, a criminal, a ruthless murderer, a person to fear.

Katari Kurochi, the second most feared thief within the Makai.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

- - -

He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his silky silver locks as he inhaled deeply, attempting to settle himself. She was just so damn stubborn.

"Why must you _always_ push me away, Katari? We've known each other for nearly a century and still you deny me," he complained, his eyes meeting those of the object of his desire and holding her stare, those beautiful orbs colorless in the darkness, but glittering vividly due to the light offered by the small fire crackling before them. It was quite late at night, and all of the others had either retired or had gone off whoring and drinking, as usual.

She didn't respond at first, staring blatantly at him with an expression that hid away whatever she was feeling at the moment, her lips still. "I'm not one of your willing whores, Yoko. I _won't_ play your game. If you want me, it will be for a lifetime, not for an evening, and I doubt _you_ can handle commitment," she replied in an almost casual manner, her gaze steady and never once faltering.

At a loss for words, he reached for her, wanting to have her in his arms, but she pulled away, out of his reach, her eyes never once leaving his. "Get it through your thick skull, Yoko. If you're that desperate for a good time, hit up the brothel-you should have the location memorized by now."

Oh, she was infamous for hitting where it hurt most, he knew that much.

Her mind spoken, she rose to her feet and left him before the fire with his own thoughts, returning to her rooms and taking a hot bath before heading off to bed.

Now alone, he fought with his inner demon, his pride injured at the fact that he had been denied something he wanted. No one had ever refused him before, and that alone made his desire to have her for his own all the more stronger.

He _had_ to have her.

- - -

A soft pained cry escaped her lips as he slid himself deep within her burning core, her flesh tight and resisting as he drove himself inside, his mind nearly combusting from the immense feelings of pleasure that overcame him as such an intrusion. Only the sound of agonized whimpers and the scent of fresh tears kept him in touch with reality. Despite her discomfort, he felt as if he finally found paradise. It took all the self control he possessed not to move immediately, knowing that if he did so, her pain would only be worse.

Her body trembled in his arms, her eyes bright with pain and glazed over with tears, her lips slightly parted and quivering with strain. His heart actually ached at seeing her in such agony, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to her sweaty brow in a gentle, reassuring kiss, whispering condolences to her as he then covered her forehead and cheeks with kisses, his arms holding her as a man on the verge of death clings to life.

As the minutes passed, the pain lessened to a dull ache and her tears ceased, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck loosening their firm grip. Only when he felt the slight inch of her hips did he allow himself to move, burying himself deeper within her wet tunnel, her tight flesh feeling as if it was swallowing his hard length with every push. The pace gradually quickened, her soft whimpers of discomforting fading into tiny cries of ecstasy as he hit that special spot within her, causing a pleasant pressure to form within the pit of her stomach that grew with each thrust.

"Y-Yoko," she panted, his lips connecting with hers a moment later. Never before had his name sounding so enticing. Only on the lips of his beloved as he brought her to climax did his name sound so sweet.

Her entire body shuddered as she hit her peak, throwing her head back against the pillow and crying out his name again in a soft moan that was like music to his ears as her claws dragged down the arch of his back, leaving bloody furrows along the pale skin, oblivious to the pain as he joined her in bliss, spilling his seed deep within her body as he buried his face in her neck, biting down hard on the tender flesh of her collarbone just as he erupted within her. Still caught in the throes of her orgasm, she barely even felt the pain as his instilled his mark upon her. She was now his, forever and always.

- - -

Nearly a century had passed, and for a long while everything was well.

That was, until that ill fated day.

She had no idea of what had happened, of course. Only when a shooting pain emitted from the mating mark he had placed upon her with an agony so great as to send her falling to her knees, blindly clutching her throat as her head flooded with a wash of pain, did she understand that something had happened, something bad.

Her mate had left camp earlier on that day to raid one of the temples within the far east. After a long rambuncous night of nonstop loving making, she was quite exhausted and had opted to stay back this time. The news came later, news that shattered her heart and left her broken.

He was dead. Her mate was dead, killed as the result of a botched raid. Once again, she was left alone, and this time, no one would be there to save her. Heartbroken and ridden with agony, she left the Makai via a portal she had discovered along the outskirts, and made herself a home and a name within the human world, quickly becoming a well known mercenary as well as wealthy from her many missions.

Kurochi Katari, the once second greatest thief of Demon World was not dead, but in hiding, and that was how she intended to stay.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Haunted by the past

**Thieves of Heaven**

_A Yoko Kurama/Shuichi Minamino story-Yu Yu Hakusho_

**Chapter Two: Haunted by the Past**

The clouds of pearlescent mist poured in, heavy and dark, shrouding the land it surrounded in a thick curtain of gray, blocking out the first rays of a new day's rising sun as it painted the still black sky shades of purple, blue, and pink. The soft, eerie call of a lone hawk as it flew overhead was nearly drowned out by the continuous crashing of the waves as they met the sandy shore of the beach, but with hearing that was far superior to that of any human, no sound was lost to her ears. Each morning, ever since the day she had made the journey between the worlds of demon and mortal, she rose early to watch the rise of the sun, her heart fluttering like a captive bird deep within the confines of her chest as the glorious ball of flame and fire rose to light the day, putting an end to the black abyss of night and painting the sky with color. She marveled at the miraculous occurrence-how anyone could take such a beautiful thing for granted was beyond her, but she was well aware of the fact that humans were, indeed, ungrateful creatures that placed little value on such things. Once the sun had bid the moon goodbye and took its place among the soft white clouds above, she took leave of her balcony and headed into the bathroom to shower and dress.

Upon emerging from the bath, she quickly toweled herself dry and donned a form fitting shirt of black silk, with a high mandarin collar, a lack of sleeves, and a simple but beautiful design of soft pink cherry blossoms in full bloom embroidered all across the delicate fabric. With this, she wore a pair of loose fitting black jeans and her most comfortable boots, the black leather worn down and weathered, but sturdy and dependable. Her lengthy crimson hair was brushed back into a tight pony tail and quickly woven into a thick braid, her face left free of any cosmetic change. With a soft sigh, she gathered up her soiled clothing and dumped the bundle into the hamper that stood beside the bathroom door, her eyes drawn to the large bay windows that lined the far wall of her magnificent bedroom as if by some unseen magnetic force. The sight of the sea and its ever moving waves caused her to mind to wander for a brief moment, her thoughts drifting away as she lost herself in those continuous, graceful motions of the blue green water, completely captivated by its odd, yet appealing dance. She emerged back into the harsh sting of reality with a quick shake of her head, forcing her mind to get back on track. A long day awaited her, and she didn't want to waste a minute more of her valuable time daydreaming-there was work to be done.

Just how long of day, she didn't, at that moment, realize.

- - -

The Prince of Spirit World was in an absolute panic. Sure, part of him had expected Torguro to pull such a card, but he was truly at a loss of what to do to right such a mess. Even with the Masked Fighter due to act as a member of his team for the Dark Tournament, they were still one fighter short due to the new rule suddenly imposed on all entering teams, an act of the Torguro brothers right hand man, Sakyo, no doubt. Damn those human crime lords and their influence. It just went to prove with the right amount of money, nothing was impossible.

Having the number of competitors raised with so little warning left Koenma with no idea of whom else he could have fight for his team. With only a mere two months before the Tournament, he had no time to train a new fighter-what a lousy predicament he was in! Pacing back and forth for hour after hour in his office, sucking madly on his pacifier while completely oblivious to the concerned glances of his ogre assistant, Jorge, Koenma wracked his brain desperately and still did not have an answer to the problem before him.

"ARRGH!" he cried out in frustration, slamming his tiny fist down hard on the desk before him and startling George, who looked up at him with scared, wide eyes. "I can't think of anyone good enough to do the job! We can't compete without a 6th fighter!" "C-can I make a suggestion, Koenma Sir?" the blue ogre asked timidly as the toddler prince of Spirit World rambled on angrily. "Not now, ogre! I'm trying to think here!" Koenma retorted harshly, his track of thought disturbed. "But Sir, what about that Kurochi girl? She seemed tough enough," Jorge continued meekly, shivering slightly at the memory of the thief Koenma had captured and released nearly 5 years prior-although she had the appearance of a fragile porcelain doll, she had a deadly air about her, one that openly mocked the delicate outlook she displayed. Her eyes had made him tremble in fear each time she had glanced his way-no one, demon or human alike, he had ever before seen, had eyes such as hers. They were harder than stone, and colder than ice, filled with more spark than a raging fire, eyes that chilled him down to his very bones. He immediately bit his tongue, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.

"Ogre, I swear if you don't shut your mouth I'll-" Koenma's words froze in midsentence as the suggestion sunk in, a familiar face flashing into the mind of the prince, rivaling the speed of a light bulb clicking on. "Kurochi… the shadow kitsune?" he questioned softly, more to himself than his audience of one, thinking hard as he tried to recall more about her. A ruthless assassin, one of the most feared in all of the Makai, and a talented, cunning thief who had even managed to outwit some of Spirit World's finest guards on several occasions to boot, Katari was definitely a prime choice for a fighter. Other than the fact that her only rival for the spot of top thief within the Makai had been the infamous Yoko Kurama and that she had left the world of demons nearly half a century ago and hid herself away in the Ningen Kai were the only things he knew about her in addition to the basics. Her past was shrouded in mystery, and despite how deep his investigative team had searched upon her capture, they couldn't find anything about her on record, in books or otherwise. As the clever and sneaky the thief she was, she had managed to avoid attention to the personal aspect of her life.

"She's perfect! Ogre, have her summoned right away! She's our 6th fighter!" Koenma ordered with a loud cry, excited and yet at the same instant, slightly worried at the prospect that lay before him as Jorge ran off to carry out his command. The prince had made a pact with Katari to work for him if he should call on her and do so without question in exchange for her freedom upon her capture a few years prior, but the question as to whether or not she would up hold her end of the bargain was what worried him-what if she refused? Even if he had her thrown into prison, she would escape within minutes-such was her prowess as a thief. No cage could hold her for long.

She wasn't once called the second greatest thief in all of Demon World for nothing.

His fear quickly melted down into relief as he had his assistant, Ayame, fetch the Kurochi file and deliver to him only minutes later-by what he read in the contents of that file, Katari was not one to ever forgo a challenge, whether it meant undecided victory or certain death. She had never once turned her back on a fight, and she had been in quite a few of the life or death situations in the past years. He was now confident that she wouldn't refuse his offer to fight in the Dark Tournament as a part of Team Urameshi-her pride wouldn't allow her to pass up an opportunity to display her skills as a combatant. Not that the tournament would present much of a challenge to her-when she was captured, she was a lower S rank of youkai, the S class being the most powerful sort, and he was almost certain that she had only grown stronger with time. Katari would be his ticket to winning this war.

A few minutes later, Botan skipped into his office, chipper and bouncy as always, her happy go lucky attitude and cheery demeanor making a constant mockery of her job as a messenger of death, her long wooden oar at her side. "I heard you finally found a 6th fighter for the team, Koenma Sir! When do I get to meet him?" she gushed excitedly, her rose colored eyes aflame with curiosity and obvious eagerness. "Our 6th fighter is a 'she', actually," he corrected her as he reclaimed his seat behind his desk and entered a series of characters into his control panel, bringing up a picture of the mysterious fighter on the large paneled screen that hung on the wall before him. A soft gasp escaped Botan's lips at the sight of the girl displayed on screen, her eyes widening in surprise.

Her appearance made an utter mockery of human beauty, and although she looked no older than 18 years of age, her vivid violet eyes were aged way beyond the youthful appearance of her face. No expression was displayed upon that blank visage, nothing to betray whatever emotion she had been feeling at the time the picture had been obtained. She looked much like a porcelain doll, her face and body perfect as if cast by a mold and every delicate feature crafted with a careful, skilled hand. Her skin was flawless and as pale as the moon, her hair the color of freshly spilled blood and cascading down the expanse of her back in a waterfall of delicate, silken waves. However, the grim reaper found herself unable to pull away from those stunning violet orbs, a slight shudder slipping down her spine as a quick chill raced through her entire body. There wasn't a trace of hope reflected in those oddly hued irises-they looked dead, as if they were incapable of displaying emotion from day one. Dead eyes, beautiful to look at, but cold and devoid of feeling.

"Who is she?" Botan asked softly after a long minute once she had finally regained the ability to speak, quickly shaking her head to throw off the icy chill that had tore through her only moments before. "Her name is Kurochi Katari of the Black Blood Clan, a shadow kitsune, S class. In short, she's our secret weapon, the one that will win that Tournament for us, hands down," Koenma responded almost giddily, watching with a wide smile as Botan's eyes grew as wide as tea saucers at his explanation. "S class?! That's amazing!" she cried out, pumping both hands high into the air as if in victory. "With a teammate like her, there's no way we can lose!" Koenma nodded his head in response, silently agreeing with her statement. "Have the team report here ASAP-I want everyone to meet her and get her settled in so we can get to training. She's on her way here as we speak." The baby blued haired grim reaper nodded her head agreeably and hopped on her oar, flying off to fetch the Spirit Detectives with a wide smile on her face.

It was almost time.

- - -

Less than 20 minutes later, the entire Spirit Detective team had assembled in one of the larger conference rooms within the offices of the Spirit World palace, each of them eagerly awaiting the arrival of their new team mate and each with their own reason. Yusuke, impatience as always, was pacing back and forth in anticipation, Kurama was casually perched on the corner of the lone couch within the vast room, attempting to read a book, and Kuwabara was slumped down on the floor near Kurama's legs, unable to sit still and mumbling to himself, seemingly lost in thought. Hiei stood apart from the rest of the little gathering, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face etched into its usual deep frown. Was this new team mate as really as good as Koenma had said? The Prince of spirit world hadn't even given them a name for their new fighter yet, much less any other information about him. The wait was really getting on everyone's nerves.

"There are two things I can't stand above everything else, and that is waiting and being rushed," Yusuke growled, fed up with the long wait. He raced over to the door in a rush, ready to run as fast as his legs could carry him into Koenma's chambers so he could complain when the door to the office swung open without warning. In unison, four pairs of eyes glanced up, every single one of them widening at the sight of their much anticipated visitor.

"Jesus…" Yusuke managed to whisper in awe, that single word echoing the thoughts of every male in the room-save for a certain red head, that is. His eyes widened, but not simply from the shock of her appearance, but the memories that flooded his mind at seeing _her_ again, after so many years. He felt his chest tighten as his breath grew short, a violent rush of emotion within causing his stomach to painfully churn. Thankfully, the eyes of his teammates were all trained on her, so no one witnessed his loss of composure, or so he though.

"Team, I'd like you to meet your newest member, Kurochi Katari," Koenma announced, entering the room only moments after she had. For a long minute, all was silent.

- - -

_**Earlier that morning…**_

After completing two of the four jobs scheduled for the day with little effort and much time to spare, Katari decided to take a breather and have a quick drink in the comfort of her garden, which was now flourishing beautifully thanks to a recent rainstorm. It was the middle of spring, after all.

The roses, in hues of white, yellow, peach, and soft pink, bloomed brightly against the green foliage, proudly displaying their vibrant colors. She never grew red roses here-red roses reminded her too much of _him_, and anything that aroused such a memory made her hurt inside, a deep physical sobbing that never seemed to lessen even with the influence of time. Nothing could touch that pain, the agony of loss. She had been face to face with death many times in her life, often without worry, and yet, nothing cemented just how permanent death really was until _he_ was killed…

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she sipped daintily at her drink, a steaming hot cup of green tea, staring at the blossoming roses with obvious sadness. It had been years, and still she had not gotten over the tragedy that had befallen her mate and left her heart broken and bitter. All that kept her going was the desire to live up to every challenge that came her way, and to find the one who had abandoned her and show that ungrateful woman what she had cast off as an unwanted burden to bear. For years, Katari had searched for her, the one she was forced to call mother, but only knew as a memory, and a bitter, hated one at that. Part of her wanted to kill Sakurai once she found her, but a greater part of her knew that revealing herself to her mother would be damage enough-a greater burden to bear than anything death could instill upon anyone.

Drinking the last of her tea in a quick swig, Katari rose from her seat among the rose garden and headed back into the house, shaking her head as if to cast off the bitter memories she felt burning within her like battery acid, the pain fresh and all the more agonizing with age. A sudden spike of a nearby source of spirit energy caught her attention, and immediately, she had her blade at the ready, the legendary sword of the Kurochi clan, passed onto her by her father once she had successfully master the art of the sword, named Loki's nail for the Norse god of mischief, a demon idol worshipped by the clan in ancient days. The blade itself stood an impressive three feet long and weight well over 100 pounds, having been handcrafted from some of the finest resources available in the realm of demons. It was oddly shaped, with duo parts and a triangular head, quite the sight to behold in battle. Carrying around such a large weapon on her person wasn't an option, so most of the time it remained waiting in a portal of shadow that Katari could summon within a moment. The blood of many a demon had stained the blade of this weapon, giving it a soft crimson tint and slightly marring the reflection it gave, but it had never once failed her in the heat of battle.

The unnamed source grew closer, and within seconds, she had pinpointed its location on the grounds-near the rose garden, where she had just came from. However, it didn't come off as a malicious energy. Those youkai who dared to trespass in her sanctuary always had the taint of blood lust within their ki, so she was nearly certain that her unexpected visitor wasn't there with the intent of battle, but never the less, her weapon remained at the ready. One could never be too careful. Another odd detail pertaining to the energy she felt was that it was coming from a feminine form, something that was even rarer than just any attacker stalking around on her property-another female.

Rather than investigate, she simply decided to wait, taking a seat on one of the long plush couches that lined the walls of the gargantuous living room with her back to the front door, where she already sensed that her guest would soon enter. Minutes later and just as she had predicted, the door slid open, the pitter patter of tiny feet approaching quietly but pausing a good ten feet away from where she sat. "Kurochi Katari, Prince Koenma of Spirit World requests your presence at the Spirit World Palace immediately-I am to escort you there," a soft, sing song voice announced, sounding very much like it belonged to a young girl. She opted to remain where she was, lightly jutting the long curve of her blade to cast a reflection of her blind side, the image of a small girl, no taller than four feet at best, with golden blond hair, piercing sapphire blue eyes, and a pale cherub's face stood clutching a long wooden oar, wearing a pale powder blue kimono with a white obi staring back at her.

"You're a reaper, I suppose?" Katari asked in a conversational tone as she slowly replaced her sword in its portal of shadow and stood up, glancing back at the girl over her shoulder with eyes slightly narrowed in curiosity. Her visitor nodded her head in response and gestured for her to come with quick wave of a tiny, pale hand. "We must depart for Spirit World immediately, Kurochi-sama. Prince Koenma says his business with you is urgent and cannot wait," she reported in a firm tone that seemed so out of place for such a sweet, inhibited looking girl. "Kurochi-sama is my father. I am simply Katari," came the reply in as close to a kind voice as Katari could manage, approaching the reaper and sliding onto the oar without protest, the girl taking off and flying into the sky without saying anything further. The trip to Spirit World took all of 5 minutes, and the moment she had arrived, Katari was ushered into Koenma's office by one of his many ogre assistants. Moments later, the prince of Reikai himself appeared, in the form of a teenager rather than his usual toddler self.

"I guess we might as well just skip the greetings and get straight to the point," he began as he took a seat at his desk, gesturing for her to sit as well in one of the two tall backed chairs before him. "I suppose you've heard of the Dark Tournament, haven't you? I have yet to learn of a demon that hasn't. Anyway," he continued on, without giving her a chance to reply. "The rules have changed this year, and 6 fighters per team are necessary to enter. I already have 5 fighters, and with the Tournament in only 2 months, I'm in desperate need of a 6th fighter to fight for my team. If you recall, 5 years ago, we made a deal. In exchange for your release and the dropping of all charges, you would work for me whenever I requested without question-"

"I recall our deal," Katari interrupted briskly, her violet eyes narrowing into a dangerous, obviously annoyed glare that caused Koenma to pause abruptly and swallow nervously, successfully managing to shut him up for a long moment. "Do you mistake me for a fool with a short memory, Koenma? You should know better," the former Kurochi chastised, her harsh glare softening a minute or so later. "My apologies," he said softly with a small nod of his head. "I need you to fight for me as a member of my Spirit Detective Team-will you do it?"

"Have you ever known me to back down from a fight, Koenma?" she asked softly, her words spoken in an almost thoughtful manner as she quickly considered his request. Eagerly, he shook his head no.

"I didn't think so," she replied, a ghost of a smile playing upon her lips.

- - -

For a long minute, all was silent. It was as if everyone in the room was sizing the other up, eyes locking with eyes and holding stares. From the start, Katari knew for certain that two of these unnamed persons were of the demon persuasion and one was nothing more than a weak human with a laughable amount of spirit energy at his call. The last one, however, she could not place. His energy was of an unordinary sort that she couldn't quite place. But this was not what brought a wave of terror to flood her being-she recognized one of the patterns of demonic energy with a familiarity that was all too shocking to her-it was _him_. It had to be. Every youkai had his or her own unique energy pattern at birth, and the demon possessing this one could not been mistaken, even though it appeared to be greatly weakened from what it once was. He looked nothing like Yoko had-his hair was bright crimson instead of angelic silver, his once beautiful golden eyes an equally stunning shade of emerald green, which oddly enough was her favorite color. The look on his face said it all-he recognized her just as she had recognized him.

Katari's entire body seemed to freeze as her eyes met those of Kurama, and deep within the confines of her chest, her heart beat seemed to stutter, the pace quickening with great speed at the electrical jolt his stare sent shooting through her body. "Katari…?" he whispered softly, his voice, although now with a more childish tone to it, pretty much the same it had always been. At that moment, her voice had mutinied against her, and her lips refused to move, fearful of what she might say. A fit of barred emotions stirred up within her, a whirlwind of pain, hurt, longing, and desire, but she fought to keep her face blank, refusing to betray the temperament she had worked so hard to maintain as well as having grown so accustomed to it, her hand flying to the base of her throat as if it had a mind of its own, clutching at the pendant hidden beneath the cloth of her shirt with slightly shaking fingers.

"You know each other?" Koenma interrupted curiously, the eyes of the small audience watching with the same intensity, unsure of what was unfolding right before them. "I-I…W-we were partners at one time," Katari managed to say, tearing her eyes away from the redheaded kitsune's stare and refusing to look back at him, instead forcing herself to look back at Koenma before continuing. "But that was a long time ago…a very long time ago…" Her gaze lowered itself to the floor and that's where it stayed, even as Koenma quickly introduced the rest of the team by name.

"Yusuke Urameshi, Kazuma Kuwabara, and Hiei Jaganshi," he announced, pointing to each respective member as he said their names. "You already seem to know Kurama," the prince of Spirit World finished, missing how just hearing his name alone jolted his newest fighter. In fact, none of the others in the room noticed it, save for Kurama. He knew her too well, even with all the years that had passed.

"Guys, this is your new team mate. She will be fighting with you in the Tournament. Just keep in mind that this is the only week you will have together as a team, because Yusuke is due to train at Master Genkai's until the Tournament begins. The rest of you will train wherever you see fit, just make sure you do it often and don't slack off," Koenma rambled on like a mother scolding her brood. "And that means you, Kuwabara. Hiei isn't going to go easy on you, you know." This bit put a knowing smirk on the short fire demon's face-it wasn't difficult to see that he greatly disliked this human detective. "Well, now that everything is established, get a move on! Go on, shoo!"

Katari moved quickly to take her leave of the room way ahead of the other members, still forcing herself not to look in the direction of her past lover. Thankfully, the reaper that had escorted her to Spirit world was sitting right outside in the lobby, fiddling nervously with what looked like a tiny glass crystal suspended by a thin gold chain about her pale throat. She saw Katari approaching and readied her oar for departure without so much as a word. "Hey, where do you think you're running off to?" the one by the name of Yusuke called out as he emerged from the conference room, the others in tow.

"Fool, she's an S class demon. She doesn't need to train with a pathetic bunch like you," Hiei snapped, his cold, crimson eyes meeting the former thief's for a spilt second before she forced herself to look away, silently pleading with her ride to hurry and whisk her back to her home. "Aww, shaddup shorty! You don't have to be so rude all the time!" the human boy, the one who could truly be defined as ugly, retorted back, meeting the fire demon's fierce glare head on with one of his own. "Who cares if she needs to train or not? We just wanna get to know ya a bit!" Yusuke called back, but by that time, she had already taken off and was headed back to the Ningen.

"She's a strange one, huh?" Kuwabara offered to the group while eying the quickly fading shadow of the oar and its two occupants as it headed back to the human realm. "Yeah, she sure seems to be. Speaking of strange, just how do you know her, Kurama?" Yusuke questioned his teammate, quickly noticing that his friend's usually bright emerald eyes had tiny pinpricks of gold drowning within the green hue, something he had never before seen in Kurama's eyes.

"It's simple enough, Yusuke," the kitsune spoke softly, his voice oddly sad yet his demeanor calm as always. "She's my mate."

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Acceptance of Fate

Thieves of Heaven

**Thieves of Heaven**

_A Yoko Kurama/Shuichi Minamino story--Yu Yu Hakusho_

**Chapter Three: Acceptance of Fate**

"Your mate? What, like your girlfriend or something?" Kuwabara, always the intellect, questioned the older male, receiving a look of pity from Kurama and glares that mocked his stupidity from the remaining two members of his team.

"You idiot, demons don't _have_ girlfriends," Hiei snarled impatiently, no doubt resisting the urge to ram his sword down Kuwabara's gullet as always. "They were lovers-am I correct, fox?" A slight nod of Kurama's head indicated his agreement to Hiei's blunt statement.

"Hiei is right, all but for one simple thing. Katari and I are still mates-even now, trapped in this human form, our bond remains. You see, the union we share is perpetual-even in death, we are bound together as one," he explained to his unusually attentive audience, his painstakingly calm tone underlain with obvious sadness.

Hiei studied his teammate with a perceptive gaze, the weight of his explanation carrying much more meaning for him than it did for the two others. After all, he was a demon himself. Humans had their customs, just as youkai had theirs.

"I thought as much-she still bears your mark beneath that garb she had on," Hiei added, scrutinizing his comrade with unwavering crimson eyes, his lips molded into an almost contemplative expression rather than his usual frown. "But I can't detect your scent on her at all."

"We haven't seen each other in a number of years." Kurama's eyes were distant, their vibrant emerald hue glazed over and devoid of their usual mischievous glitter. "I'm certain Katari believed me to be dead, killed as a result of an ill-fated raid. She had no idea of what really occurred, and with my condition as poor as it was following the incident, I had no means of getting in touch with her. From what I can gather, she was still living within the boundaries of Demon World, and in such a drastically weakened state, returning to that plane would have been suicidal. I had no way knowing she had relocated to the Human Realm."

"Fate's got once bitchy sense of humor, eh?" Yusuke perked up, a smile plastered upon his face in an attempt to lighten up the dreary mood that had seemed to fill the room. He slung an arm around the taller boy's broad shoulders in a consoling manner and poked his chest with a single finger to emphasize his words as he spoke. "Well, I ain't no love doctor, but if we're all gonna be working together, you might wanna set things straight, Kurama. Especially if she's as good as Binky Breath says she is-she could kick all of ours asses and not even break a sweat." As dimwitted as the heavily gelled hair teen could sometimes be, he made a very good point. A small smile perched upon the side of the redhead's lips despite himself.

"I don't doubt that for a moment, Yusuke, and yes, I plan to settle things, I just need to think of how. Katari will need time to adjust. Many things have changed," the fox replied, his last words mostly to himself.

**- - - **

The return trip from Spirit World seemed to be centuries longer than the initial journey, with Katari fighting wave after wave of dizziness as it rocked her petite form. The constant spinning of her head sent her thoughts a monochrome blur, like a tiny drop of water splashing upon freshly printed black ink and smearing the words into one long distorted smudge across the paper.

Her stomach was currently at war with itself, tossing and turning like a ship trapped within the spinning currents of a deadly storm upon the unforgiving sea, inflicting her with the urge to throw up. The unnamed guide glanced back at her from time to time, concern radiating in those soft azure eyes of hers. Despite this, she seemed unsure on whether or not to ask if anything was wrong.

"You're very pale," she commented almost nonchalantly, but Katari could easily pick up on the unmistakable the guise of worry clear in her voice. "Are you ill?"

"I'll survive," the distraught kitsune managed to say in the disguise of a calm voice, even though inside she was a gigantic emotional disaster. Fury, grief, memories of love and warmth plagued her thoughts like a fatal disease, all striking instantaneously and without limit. They rapidly ate away at the barrier she had built with such painstaking effort, downing the high walls she had raised in order block out such feeling-emotions did her no good, or so she could recall. All they did was make her feel weak and helpless.

In light of this fact, Katari had refused to acknowledge that such things existed. However, seeing _him _after so many long, lonely years had changed that in a matter of seconds. It made all those feelings she had carefully forced out of mind to come rushing back with a vengeance, swallowing her whole and dragging her down into deep, dark waters with no way to avoid the insistent pull of the current.

The moment her feet touched the ground of her lavish estate, she fled into the safety of her sanctuary, pausing only to glimpse back at the reaper before disappearing into the house. The large French doors slammed shut behind her lithe form with a heavy thud, the noise echoing throughout the expanse of the rather impressive holding.

Once within the protected fortress that she had made into a home, Katari collapsed. She fell to her knees on the cold tile of the foyer, her breathing heavy and labored as her hands clutched blindly at the pendant that dangled from about her neck-a delicate trinket that she had worn for years. _His_ pendant. It had been a present from him, the last gift he had bestowed upon her before his death.

Known throughout the realm as the Sacred Heart, this incredibly beautiful charm was carved out of a large blood red ruby and set with a number of tiny onyx pieces said to hail from the banks of the river Styx, the water ridden path paving the way into the underworld. The charm itself was said to have once belonged to the goddess Aphrodite, the Greek mistress of love, beauty, and notions of the heart, and it was sanctified with a special decree: should true love exist between the one who bestows it and its holder, it will never break, thus symbolizing a bond to last forever.

Ever since the day Yoko had placed the bejeweled ornament around her neck by means of a thin silver chain, it had never once left her person-oddly enough, the charm itself provided her with a sense of security, making her feel just short of untouchable. Even following his tragic passing, she continued to wear it, vainly hoping that it would somehow keep him alive, if only in her memories. However, all the pendant did was provide more pain to add onto the burden of her loss simply by forcing her to relive past moments the pair had once shared. In the end, she found herself unable to get rid of it-she couldn't even find it in her heart to remove it from her neck, so it remained, serving as a beautiful, but grim reminder.

The Sacred Heart had once felt warm to the touch, back when Yoko had been of the living. But following his death, it had turned cold and remained as such-icy and bitter, much like her heart. The shock lit up every nerve ending within her body as slender fingers enclosed about the usually cool gem, seeking comfort in its cold touch, only to find it warm and pulsating, as if with a life of its own. A soft cry escaped her throat as she tore her hand back, as if scalded by flame, and buried her face in the nook of her hands, desperate to keep herself from dissolving into tears.

It took all of her strength to maintain her composure, but even still, a single tear managed to escape its prison within the depths of her violet eyes-the very first tear she had cried in the long, painful years following Yoko's death. It trailed down the curve of her pale cheek in a cool glistening trail only to be quickly wiped away with the back of her hand. The lump stuck in her throat worsened-she'd nearly forgotten what it was to cry. Despite the deteriorating condition of her trembling legs, she forced herself to rise to her feet, fighting like hell to maintain her self control-what little remained of it-and inwardly cursing herself for breaking down and showing such weakness.

She was _not_ weak; however, she found herself feeling so close to human at that point that it made the ache plaguing her stomach grow worse. If she didn't find a way to calm herself soon, she would end up succumbing to these intense emotions and no doubt end up the victim of one horrid mental breakdown. Neither option appealed to her, so she did the only thing she could think of-she headed down to the shore. The brisk lull of the sapphire waves and soft, salt scented breeze would offer her the comfort she so desperately sought-she was sure of it. After all, the sea had calmed her numerous times in the past. There was just something about the soothing serenity of the gently lolling waves as they crashed upon the pale sands of the shore in an explosion of foam and turquoise that consoled her troubled soul even at its worst.

The scent of salt hung thick in the air, which, even as heavy with humidity as it was, was pleasant enough as it blew over her clammy skin, causing tiny goosebumps to form over the exposed flesh of her pale arms as her legs carried her down to the shore. With a quick hand, she carefully pulled her lengthy hair from its braid, allowing the wavy crimson tresses to hang free, billowing out behind her lithe form at the inviting lull of the sea breeze. She kicked off her boots and socks as she neared the shore line, tossing them carelessly aside as she broke into a run, not stopping until the last few steps separating her from the cooling sea water were breached, her feet sinking into the wet sand as the bottoms of her jeans grew heavy with water.

The soft rush of the chilly water over her feet sent a enjoyable tingle shooting up her legs as a large blast of ocean wind roared past, ruffling her long blood hued locks with a gentle, unseen touch. Closing her eyes, her entire body relaxed against the pull of the wind, bestowing upon her the feeling of being without gravity for a brief moment. That alone almost brought a smile to grace her lips-that is, until she caught wind of something that shattered her newly achieved calm just as quickly as she had gained it.

She wasn't alone.

What was worse, her unseen guest was standing _right_ behind her.

Worst still, this guest wasn't a stranger, not the kind she usually received, anyway.

There was no mistaking that ki signature, no matter how weakened it had become.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sound of her name on his lips, so quiet, so heavy with regret and soft with fear, and for one brief, terrifying moment, thought she might drown.

"Katari?"

The sound of her heart as it hammered away within the confines of her chest echoed with a startling clarity in her ears, her tiny hands balling up into tightly clenched fists. Her violet eyes remained staring out at the sea, knowing full well that if she were to look at him, she would lose it. Just being so _close_ to him was enough to shatter her usually blank demeanor, a feat that no one else could brag of. Within the depths of her mind, she cursed herself, wishing she had never given herself to him in the first place. No, that wasn't right. Even as hurt and angry as she was, he had once made her happier than anything else in her life, and she couldn't despise him, if only for that fact.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

In spite of how shaken she was, her voice still came forth cold and unwavering as always, and for that she was grateful. As long as she didn't meet his eyes, she would remain unaffected, or so she told herself. It was so much easier to be cruel when the receiver of said malice wasn't in sight-out of sight, out of mind, she supposed.

"Years without so much as a word and now you can't even bring yourself to look at me?" the redheaded male called out as he approached her from behind. Tension hung in the air like thick storm clouds, so heavy one could cut it with a knife.

"I make it a point not to look at what offends me, and I don't think I could find something I consider more offensive than you, kitsune," she snarled, the sharpened points of her considerable claws digging fiercely into the soft flesh of her palms, breaking the thin layer of skin with little force. The metallic scent of blood perfumed the air moments later, tainting the calming aroma of sea salt with its pungent fragrance. "I suggest you quickly take your leave of this place before I'm forced to escort you out using force." Her voice was so harsh, so much more malicious than usual, she barely recognized it herself.

"Katari…" His voice had taken on a pleading tone that tore at her heart and caused her nails to dig themselves deeper into the bleeding flesh of her palms in order to maintain her cold hearted manner. "Please, allow me to explain before you condemn me. If you ever held any love for me at all, you would at least allow me this chance," he implored, his voice so heavy with raw emotion, she knew that attempting to falter him from his current course of action was indeed futile. She could effectively shut him up and force him to leave as she had threatened, but something inside of her demanded that she allow him this one grace. The instinctive part of her that ordered this had never let her down before, so she knew that listening to what he had to say would most likely be in her best interest-and perhaps his as well.

"The truth," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Even with his exquisite hearing, he barely managed to catch the words as they emitted from her lips. "Tell me anything other than that, and we're finished here. Koenma can lock me up for eternity and throw away the key for all I give a damn." An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair as she impatiently waited for the male to continue. When he failed to do so, she chided him along with a harshly spoken word.

"Are you perhaps waiting for an invitation?"

That was all the push he required, for shortly after her little outburst, his tongue shot off in a flurry of words. To his credit, he kept his explanation short and concise.

"Back in the Demon Realm, I was not killed but gravely injured after an unsuccessful raid, and was being actively pursued by a number of bounty hunters. I didn't have a choice-it was flee or death, and I wasn't ready to face the reaper yet. My soul barely managed to make it to the Human Realm, where I inhabited the body of an unborn infant that had yet to be assigned a spirit. In short, I was raised as a normal human boy with a human mother," he explained all in one long breath, almost as if he feared not being able to say it all because he would lose his courage.

"At first, I only planned to remain in the world of humans long enough to regain some of my ki and then return to the Demon World, but things did not go as I had planned. Not only was I not strong enough to handle the journey back to my youkai origin, I had grown quite attached to my mother as well and could not leave her." He paused to clear his throat for a brief minute before continuing.

"Interaction with the Demon World was impossible. My powers had been immensely weakened by the transfer, and the human body I had obtained-_this_ body-would not have survived the trip even if I had been foolish enough to attempt it." He paused again to catch his breath, his chest heaving with the effort. Impatiently he waited for her response, feeling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, poorly balanced and ready to go flying over the side and plummeting to certain death atop the jagged rocks below. Katari held in her hands the power to make him or break him, that much he knew. Years without her, and within minutes of being reacquainted with her, he felt that losing her again would kill him.

Katari's mind was a jumbled mess. Emotions ran rampant, part of her screaming to forgive while the other demanded hatred. His explanation did make sense. Still, it did not quell the feelings of bottled up indignation and agony raging about within her. But could she truly fault him for a situation so obviously out of his control? If put in the same circumstance, she would have undoubtedly chosen the very same path-didn't that make her a hypocrite?

The siren kitsune wracked her mind, quickly coming to a unanimous conclusion-she would forgive him. She really didn't see any other option-after all, despite the separation and years of pent up emotion, she still loved him with every fiber of her being, and that, she surmised, was reason enough. However, she found it fair to rake him over the coals a bit before making him aware of that fact.

"You swore that you would never abandon me, and yet that is exactly what you did-_you_, of all people, know why I fear being alone…" she offered, her words cold but devoid of their cruel tone as they emerged from her lips.

"There wasn't a day that passed I did not think of you, Katari. I would never have abandoned you by my own accord," he argued gently, his words undeniably certain. A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips, and the unseen weight crushing her chest lightened, if only slightly, as he spoke his next words, effectively beating her to the punch line.

"I'm still your mate, if you'll have me."

At that moment, her mental decree not to look at him was broken, her head whipping around to stare up at this man she once knew so well, with wide, incredulous violet orbs. A sudden rush of warmth flooded her chest in that instant, her eyes locking with his own and unable to pull away from the lull of his intent stare.

The desperate misery reflected in those vivid emerald eyes, their intense hue now tainted by a tiny flicker of gold, was unmistakable and so raw. It cut into her like the sharpened blade of a knife. She found herself missing Yoko's golden eyes-they could go from cold hearted and deadly when in battle to warm and filled with such love when he looked her way. She nearly forwent her plan to inflict a final blow upon him, but found herself unable to deny herself the right of one more painful strike to his conscience.

"That body is not the body of my mate," she retorted harshly, her softly spoken words laced with deadly venom as her eyes narrowed into a vicious glare. The agony reflected in his eyes worsened at her cutting words, his hurt visible to the world without any notion of shame. Yoko never showed such emotion so recklessly-could he really have gotten so weak?

"In body, no, but in soul, yes. You still bear my mark, do you not? If you had truly forgotten about me, denied me, it would have vanished," he interjected, his voice rapidly becoming desperate. "And yet, you stand here and deny me as your lover. You aren't the only one who has suffered, Katari. We both have. Don't you see what being without you has done to me? Or are you too blinded by your own distress to open your eyes and see the truth?"

His brash words had the effect of the aforementioned knife burying itself deep within her heart and twisting itself. She knew in that instant, her final strike had been successful, and she would now cease fire. He could only take so much abuse.

"When I made a promise to remain your mate for life, I meant what I said. Your absence did not change that," came her response, her words shaky and heavy with emotion as she was unable to disguise the hurt in her voice any longer. The sight of the rebellious misery in his eyes rapidly dissipating into a bright ray of silent joy, a wide smile of relief breaking out his face despite himself.

"My body may be different, but my heart and mind are not. Will you accept me as I am, Katari?" he asked, his voice alive with new hope, like beams of sun shining bright through dark storm clouds. "Will you?"

For a long moment, Katari found herself unable to respond to him, her willpower suddenly lost as a wave of panicked thoughts flooded her mind in that instant. Could she truly accept him as her mate, even in a lowly human form? As weakened as he was, he was still the man that had somehow managed to steal her heart all those years ago. Wasn't love truly greater than any of these faults anyway? And then came the greater question still-did she really wish to take the risk of losing it all again? If she allowed him back into her life, allowed herself to love and be loved in returned only to lose it, she knew for certain that she wouldn't survive. Madness would set in, and that would be the death of her. Question after question plagued her mind.

Was it worth it?

Did she really love him _that_ much?

There was no denying the answers to those questions; yes, and yes. Why fight a losing battle?

"I will…Kurama."

That name, however foreign on her lips, filled her with a sense of relief that she had not known in years. In time, she'd adjust.

There was no denying the genuine smile on his face now. She studied it at great length, decided that she liked what she was seeing, and allowed a small smile of her own to form upon her lips in response-the first smile to grace her lips in years. She vaguely wondered if her face would hurt from doing so later on.

"Thank you," he whispered, and slowly closed the gap between them, pausing just before her, their bodies mere inches away from contact.

Even in his human state, Kurama still towered over her by a solid foot, and possessed a beauty that mocked the standards of humans. With his long crimson locks, brilliant emerald eyes and sun kissed skin, he was truly an amazing specimen to behold. The baggy nature of his current clothing gave no hint to the physique of his figure, but from looks alone, he was lean and possessed broad shoulders. A beautiful creature indeed.

"May I…?" he questioned gently, reaching out with a single hand to brush a stray strand of thick red hair away from her line of vision and wincing when she visibly flinched at the touch. He went to withdraw his hand, only to have her firmly seize his wrist in mid air and guide it back, placing it against the curve of her cheek. With a careful hand, she covered the appendage with her own, causing it to mold itself to the shape of her face as she stared up into his eyes with an unwavering gaze. Absentmindedly, his thumb began to stroke the warm flesh of her lips, the rose hued swells soft and supple beneath his wandering digit.

"I haven't been touched by another's hand in years," she offered quietly, sounding oddly ashamed at this little declaration, "So forgive me if I seem a bit unaccustomed to it." Gentle understanding reflected in those bright green pools at her explanation, filling her with a strong sense of security-_just like Yoko always managed to do_.

A soft chuckle emitted from his throat as he continued his gentle ministrations, suddenly overcome with the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her like he had longed to do for years. However, based on her previous announcement, he deemed it best to voice his request prior to initiating it, just in the event that she reacted badly.

"May I hold you, Katari?"

Now she was the one to laugh. She knew he was just being a gentleman, heeding her words, but still. After all, mates did a lot more than just _hold_ each other. The idea of having him ask if he could perform his other mately duties made her mentally giggle. Rather than answer, she reached for him, placing her hands upon the broad curves of his shoulders and pulling his body to hers. A tiny flare of pain from her previously puncture palms stung, but she knew that the miniscule wounds would heal over in a matter of minutes.

He took her initiative as acceptance and wrapped his arms about her petite figure, unable not to take note of the way she seemed to fit him with the utmost perfection, a leather glove to a slender hand. Her size and stature complimented his own, and the press of her body against him felt immaculate. This truly was where she belonged--in his arms and in his life.

She inhaled deeply as her body relaxed against him, her slender arms wrapping themselves around his neck and holding him tightly, her face burying itself in his firm chest. It was quite different from Yoko-a tall, yet smaller form and weaker build, but warm and with a beating heart. His scent was nearly the same, only with the taint of humanity, but earthy and deep, calming and familiar. It definitely wasn't the same, but Katari was certain that she could get used to it.

**End of Chapter Three**

A special thanks to my awesome Pherin for beta-ing for me and being awesome as always!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, but I do own Katari!


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